


They're My Socks

by Notawriterjustalurker



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Ficlet, Fluff, Play Fighting, anyone can be passionate, it takes real lovers to be silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:08:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26196142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notawriterjustalurker/pseuds/Notawriterjustalurker
Summary: Head cannon: Matt loves wearing bed socks. Matt also hates it when Karen steals his bed socks
Relationships: Matt Murdock/Karen Page
Comments: 14
Kudos: 23





	They're My Socks

**Author's Note:**

> I have TWO multi chapter fics that I should be writing and instead I'm here thinking about Matt and his adorable little bed socks and his cute little toes 
> 
> I have NO WILL POWER 🙈😭😂

"They're my socks."

"Not anymore," Karen said defiantly, stretching her toes and shuffling further back into the pillow. Matt was standing there in his usual athleisure attire — which included his grey sweatpants, a baggy t-shirt that clung just the right amount to his chest and arms, and on this occasion — with nothing on his feet — just his bare little twinkle toes.

"They're just so soft," she reiterated, "like, all fleecy inside."

"I know," he said, sulking. "They're mine."

Karen lowered her book down from in front of her face and smiled daringly. "If you want them back, you could always fight me for them." 

"Fight you?" Matt almost laughed, raising his eyebrows and splaying his hands over his hips. "That would be a little unfair don't you think?" 

Karen laid the book pages down on the bed — like a red flag to a bull. "You're looking at the current sock wrangling champion of Vermont. So no, Matt, I don't think it's unfair at all." 

She watched him gnaw on his inner cheek for a moment, lips twisting up in the way they always did when he was thinking about his next move — "fine," he snapped, surging forward to wrap a hand around her ankle, tugging her out of her reading nook and towards the edge of the bed before quickly straddling her waist, his back facing her as he held her wriggling calf in his hands. 

"No! Matt!" she yelped, "I didn't mean —" she helplessly squirmed as he extracted the sock from her foot with ease — "you can't —"

"I can't what Karen? Win?" He chirped back smugly.

But she responded by reaching down towards her other leg and quickly whipped off the one remaining sock, rolling and stuffing it into her hands and clutching it to her chest, using her forearms as a barricade. 

"Give it to me," he snarled, only a tiny bit serious, his hair sticking up in a fuzzy clump from where the static of her jeans had been rubbing against his temple. But she managed to roll onto her front and made a tight ball with her body, protecting her prize, barely able to breathe now that she was pressed against the bed covers, Matt's hands busy investigating the crease where her arms met her sides —

Checking for weakness.

And her laughter spiked into a howl when his fingers jabbed in between two of her sensitive ribs. "Matt! No tickling!"

"I'm sorry I didn't quite catch that —" he pressed his full thumb and fingers further into her floating ribs and wiggled them _mercilessly_. 

"Stop!"

"Stop what Karen?" His voice was filled with a smile as it purred, raspy and infuriatingly calm into the little space behind her ear. " _This_?" 

"You dick!" She screeched.

And the sock suddenly appeared in her right hand as she dangled it just out of his reach off the side of the bed, waving it like a flag, dodging his attempts to capture it as her chest heaved from lack of oxygen, until eventually her eyes closed — and that was when Matt took expert advantage of her brief moment of sluggishness.

"Too slow Miss Page." 

She huffed, wiping off a smidge of drool that had escaped from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand. "Dirty tactics," she protested, breathless as he turned her over onto her back and planted an overly sloppy kiss on to her stubbornly closed mouth. 

"You love it when I'm dirty," he said. And his smile was devilish, to put it simply, his cheeks flushed and his face radiating cockiness.

"Shut up." She pursed her lips and he leaned back from his position above her, still straddling her waist, collecting his socks and simultaneously flattening his hair back down to its rightful position.

"On second thoughts, you can keep these," he said, tossing them down on her chest.

Karen pinned herself up on her elbows and met him with a dagger-sharp glare. "I thought you said —"

"I have more than one pair of socks Karen."


End file.
